Fix You
by TheRebelFlesh
Summary: Tartarus broke the son of Poseidon, leaving a fragile, sleepless shell behind. Percy is drowning, as ironic as that sounds, constantly being pulled under by the gruesome memories. Everyone else tries to understand and help, but I'm the only one who really gets it. It's my job to fix Percy Jackson, because, honestly, I love him more than anything. Eventual Percy/Nico.
1. Chapter 1

***awkwardly waves hello***

**I'm new here...well, sort of. **

**Not going to lie, but I fell out of this fandom for a LONG time, but I've recently jumped back in full force because of the power of shipping and I've been reading a shit ton of fanfiction on here and I just decided I'd might as well write some too, since I've been writing on here for a few months but for other fandoms with some pretty good success rates. **

**So I thought I'd do this, since I haven't seen all that many stories like it **

**Just a little rundown on this story...**

**1)Eventual Percy/Nico in case you didn't catch it in the description. Technically Percy/Annabeth right now but no Annabeth bashing later on in the story, so Percabeth shippers need not worry that this'll turn into one of those cheating stories because I still ship Percabeth too**

**2)Annabeth was never in Tartarus. It just works better with what I have in mind, so bear with me**

**Well...I think that's all I have to say for now. I honestly hope you enjoy because I really liked writing this and I hope it goes over well :)**

**Rated T for later themes and language **

* * *

(Nico's POV)

The first few days after the war ended were filled with mourning, as expected.

Many great demigods had died, but thankfully the seven of the prophecy remained in varying degrees of wellness. We were still together though, and still mostly sane. I don't know if I would have been able to take losing any more important people, I had so few left.

I was lucky, as ridiculous as that sounded.

I guess that was something to be happy about, and it's not as though I'd ever really know those who'd died in the fighting anyway. And, being the son of Hades, death has never really bothered me in the first place.

But the next few days had been reserved for celebration. For parties and duels and chariot races at both camps, celebrating the end of the war and Gaea's deep sleep (which would hopefully last a long, long time).

I was just happy that we'd all made it though another goddamn war without too much damage, that I still had my sister and that my sister still had Frank. That Jason still had Piper, and that Percy still had Annabeth...well, sort of.

Percy was the problem, really, the outlier in this nearly perfect post-war little world of ours. It was more than worrying. Honestly, it was terrifying, even to me. And I'd seen plenty of terrifying things, some so recently.

Something about the war had broken him, broken him down to the point where he was almost unrecognizable. He wasn't Percy Jackson anymore, the strong, confident hero who'd saved the world so many times that he'd been offered godhood.

That Percy Jackson was gone, long gone.

That scared me a whole lot, even if I didn't scare easily.

Percy was nothing but a husk now, but only because he could now afford to be. Golden tan skin now ashy and pale, his eyes dull and ringed in dark half-moons. Thin body, once made of lean muscles was wasting away, weakened by exhaustion and starvation. He couldn't remember to eat unless he was forced, and sleep seemed out of the question.

As ironic as it sounded, Percy Jackson was drowning in his own personal ocean, unable to break the surface for more than a few seconds before being pulled under again by the rough riptide of gruesome memories.

A lot of people would probably wonder why it all seemed to be affecting him so much. He'd been through war before and come out fine on the other side. He'd seen horrible things and lost so many important people, friends so close they seemed like family.

What was so different?

The answer was Tartarus, obviously. It didn't take a genius to figure that out.

The infernal pit is what had broken him. Not the fighting. Not the newly acquired scars that marred his skin. Not the multitude of shrouds hastily made and just as hastily burned, not the funerals or the campers and friends lost on both sides.

No, as a demigod, Percy was used to those things. He'd gone through them all and made peace with it.

It was Tartarus that had killed the old Percy. It was a horrible cesspool that no demigod should even have to see, let alone traverse. It was something people didn't survive once, let alone twice like myself.

The pit had spit back out a fragile, broken boy that was expected to get right back up and be a leader again, to be the same person he'd been before he'd fallen. The seven had given him a few days to rest, and they'd given me the same, but it wasn't enough, not by a long shot. Especially when each night was filled with violent nightmares. After those few days though, it was back to work. Back to fighting and strategizing and bickering. And they'd all just expected Percy to be fine because he had to be.

They didn't understand what it was like down there, and I honestly hoped they never would. They were good people, after all. I wouldn't wish that fate on anybody, not even my worst enemy.

They tried to understand. They'd given Percy as long as they possibly could to get better. They tried to ignore Percy's agonizing, nightmarish screams that'd interrupted their sleeping. They tried to treat him the same even though they couldn't help but stare at their broken leader, absolutely terrified.

I think Annabeth tried the most. She tried to be there for the boy she loved. She stayed up with him during the night and tried to wake him when his screams pierced the silence of the slumbering Argo II. She spent nearly every hour of every day with him, trying to comfort him, trying to chase the nightmares away.

And for a while, Percy had pretended to be okay. He'd taken those few days to rest as much as he could and jumped right back in, working himself to the bone to make sure everything went according to plan. He'd played the part of the soldier, the leader, doing whatever was necessary and sacrificing his health and sanity for the lives of everyone else. He didn't want them to be afraid that he would fall apart in the middle of the battle.

But now things were different.

He didn't have to be strong anymore. People weren't relying on him so he didn't have to keep it together.

He could stop fighting, he could give up and let go.

It hurt me a lot to see him like that.

I mean, I loved him. I really did.

When I was little he'd always been this shining hero in my mind, a real life representation of the silly card game I'd obsessed over.

I'd spent so long mad at him, but now I finally understood that as much as I was angry at him I was angry at myself and scared of my growing feelings.

And I guess that's why it hurt me so much. Why it scared me.

I wasn't just seeing a friend struggle and drown. I was seeing the only person I truly loved in the world fade right in front of me, seeing the strongest person I'd ever met so destroyed. I really didn't want to let that happen. I wanted to be able to fix him, if that were even possible.

That's why I was wandering right now, that's why I'd left the party so soon even though it was still in full swing.

Percy had disappeared a little while ago, and nobody, not even Annabeth, seemed to know where he was.

But I knew exactly where to look. I knew where he'd be.

It was dark out, the light of the bonfires fading as I walked further out, towards the ocean. I could see just fine though, whether that was a natural gift of mine or just something gained from all the time spent in the shadows I wasn't sure.

Soon, my feet made the transfer from the wooded trail to the sand. I was on the beach, and my eyes scanned the shore, looking for Percy.

Needless to say, I found him exactly where I though he would be.

I walked over silently, footsteps muffled by the thick sand. I don't think he even noticed I was there.

As I got closer, I started seeing him more clearly, his rapidly thinning body illuminated by the faint, bronzy glow of his uncapped sword which was nestled in the sand next to him providing the only speck of light in the overwhelming darkness. His back was pushed up against a rising dune, his arms hugging around his knees as he stared out into the shadows. A stray piece of driftwood snapped under my foot though, and his head immediately shot up, hand flying to Riptide (his battle reflexes and paranoia at its worst, thanks to Tartarus) as he squinted into the murky darkness.

I stepped quickly into the little circle of light, holding up my hands in submission, "Just me, Perce."

Face softening only slightly, he dropped the sword to side once more, only silence and a fleeting glance in my direction following.

"Uh, mind if I sit with you?" I asked uncertainly.

I got a shrug this time around.

Taking that as a yes, I sat down in the sand next to him, not caring that it'd be hell to get off my clothes.

A few minutes passed in silence, and I couldn't help but stare at him. He didn't even seem to notice. The faint light coming from his sword painted his skin in an almost golden light, reminiscent of how he'd been before all this shit, the only difference being the heavy shadows cast on his face, sharpening the newly razored edges.

The eyes were the worst part though. They were so unlike him.

I'd always noticed that demigods seemed to have unparalleled eyes, passed down to them by the gods. Thalia and Jason had their electric blues and all the Athena children had the same stormy, roiling grays and Piper (along with many other Aphrodite children) had her super-weird kaleidoscope eyes that were never the same color no matter how many times you saw her. My eyes were nothing special though, so I think it might just be envy.

But Percy's had always been my favorite.

They were the precise color of the ocean, and like the ocean, they were constantly shifting and changing.

Most of the time they'd be this shade of sparkling sea green only replicated in the color of tropical oceans (as opposed to the more familiar polluted New York rivers). They'd glimmer without fail in the sun and sometimes it almost seemed like they were flecked with gold. They were gorgeous and he could melt you with one simple look. It was probably one of the only things that could make me smile.

Those gorgeous eyes could be absolutely terrifying though. In the midst of a battle they had this cruel steeliness to them, an almost feral look that, combined with the stray frenzied laugh that escaped his lips, would be enough the scare anyone away. It wouldn't surprise me if there were campers that were scared of him, as nice as he could be. Especially the Romans and the newer Greeks, who didn't know him all that well. All they knew was that he was a force to be reckoned with when he had his sword in hand, able to batter the Ares cabin quite easily even without using his powers. He'd even bested me every time we'd spared, and I'd learned from the very best (well, the very best ghosts in my defense). It was just another reason I loved him, his undeniable strength.

But he was none of this now. His eyes were blank and haunting and sad, these impressions only increased by the dark circles so permanently affixed there. They weren't sparkling like the water in the sunlight, and weren't even a terrifying hurricane which I'd take in a heartbeat. They matched the sea as it was right now. Flat and black with darkness.

"I thought you'd be gone by now," Percy practically whispered, breaking the silence and shocking me.

My brow furrowed, "Why would you think that?"

He shrugged again, "I dunno. You've just never stayed at camp this long before. I thought you'd be back in the Underworld by now...doing whatever it is you do down there."

"Why's it so weird that I'm staying?" I questioned, staring side-long at him once again.

"Cuz you're Nico di Angelo, the ultimate loner. You don't care about anyone."

My mouth tightened and my shoulder stiffened. How could he think that? After all this?

But I do care, more than you can ever know, the little voice inside me said. But then again, caring wasn't an advantage in the end.

I thought maybe having the shared experience in Tartarus might have changed things between us. No such luck.

He seemed to pick up on change in demeanor right away though.

"I'm sorry...if I said something wrong," he began, wringing his hands nervously.

I sighed and shook my head, "No, it's fine. But I do care Percy, about you and about everyone else."

I got up and started to walk away, brushing the sand off my usual black clothes as I went.

"Nico...please come back. I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean it...I just, I wasn't thinking..." Percy practically pleaded, rising from his sitting position and trying to follow me.

"Save it," I bristled, calling over my shoulder before I allowed the shadows to envelop me and take me somewhere else, "And it's not like I _want _to be alone, for your information."

Sometimes I don't even know why I bother with this.

* * *

**Like I said before, I really enjoyed writing because I love sad things and Nico a lot, so I hope you guys enjoyed reading it :)**

**If I get enough interest, I'll keep going with this, so please drop me a review and tell me what you think and I'll continue**

**And a special thanks to RainyDays-and-DayDreams for looking this over for me**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I'm back :) **

**And 15 followers already! That's pretty insane!**

**I've really been enjoying this story so far, and I hope you guys enjoy this next chapter too (which ended up way longer than I meant it)**

* * *

I stayed away longer than I probably should have, splitting my time between the Underworld (where I suffered with ghosts and my dad and Persephone) and Camp Jupiter, where at least I had Hazel to keep me company. I just couldn't bear seeing Percy again, not after what he'd said to me.

I was running again because some small part of me just thought things were going to be different this time around. I thought things were finally going to be different with Percy.

I thought that our shared time in Tartarus would _make _things different. I thought it would bring us closer. We'd been though hell together, after all.

We'd spent so long together down there, in that place where time had no meaning and the gravity weighed down with crushing force and the clouds of poison choked the thin air.

In the real world, we'd only been gone about about two weeks. But down there, it felt like any eternity.

An eternity of acid and blood and misery and fire and wave after wave of monsters. Just constant monster attacks and constant physical pain from our new wounds and from Tartarus itself, from the fires of the Phlegethon and the glass shard shores of the Cocytus. I'd never really expected to make it out alive a second time, I don't think the rest of the seven did either. Not even Percy, the eternal optimist, expected to get out. He'd shared that with me, while we were down there. He'd talked about how death must be better. I agreed.

But we made it though, somehow, and I just thought this would be different. Maybe not better, but different.

We'd never be the same again, but that was alright. I wasn't quite myself and neither was Percy, but that was okay.

We could heal together.

I just thought things were going to change. I thought our time spent down there would be enough to get Percy to understand that I do care, even if I never really showed it.

I thought we could bond over our pain. I thought that maybe I could be there for him, I thought he might need me.

But he didn't, nobody did. He still thought I was the same, that I didn't care, that maybe I even hated him.

And I thought making "friends" while on the Argo II would change things. I thought helping the two camps make peace would make people like me more. Maybe they wouldn't be so afraid of me. Maybe I would have a home. Maybe I could have friends if I couldn't have Percy.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, was different.

I was still the damned son of Hades. I was still a friendless loner. I was still the creepy one, the quiet one, the freak who made skeletons rise from the ground. I still made people uncomfortable. Everyone still hated me.

But nobody thought that way of Hazel though. She was sweet and bright and warm and affectionate. She had so many friends and she was so loyal and so loving, she even had Frank, and he loved her back just as much as she loved him. I didn't think anybody would, or even could, love me like that. It was impossible.

Nobody would ever imagine her being a daughter of Pluto, not by a long shot. Sometimes it was like you could almost forget it. She was wonderful, and I loved her like I'd loved Bianca so long ago, but it hurt seeing her.

Because I was alone. I was _always _alone and I would always _be_ alone. I'd never have friends like her, nobody would ever love me like Frank loved her, especially not Percy. I was too broken and unlovable and the only person that I thought _might _be able to understand me still thought I was a freak. Nobody else cared enough to come find me. I bet nobody even realized I was missing. No iris messages, no search parties, not a single word from the people that were supposed to be my friend. Nobody cared.

But I did have to go back eventually, if only to replenish my stocks of clothes and gather anything I'd left behind.

I knew I wasn't going to stay though.

I was done at Camp Half Blood. I'd only been staying for Percy, but he obviously didn't need me. He had Annabeth and his friends and his family to keep him sane.

I wasn't worth the heart ache, seeing Percy broken and seeing Annabeth fix him.

And maybe I'd be better at Camp Jupiter anyway, with Hazel keeping me relatively sane.

At least the Romans respected me, if only for my power. They usually hated Greeks, but some had gained their respect after the war.

I didn't mind though, since they didn't seem so visibly disgusted by me. They usually kept it to themselves. But small victories were victories nonetheless, and those small victories were all I had.

Maybe I'd spend some time in the Underworld too, doing my dad's bidding and going on quests for him or Persephone (the only time she managed to acknowledged my existence, apart from shouting at me).

It would take some getting used to, with the whole cohort system and the harsh attitudes, but I'd be fine. Hopefully more than fine. Maybe I'd find a new place at camp.

So, weeks after my fallout with Percy, I decided to just shadow-travel directly into my cabin in the middle of the night, rather than outside during the day. Better not to be seen, better nobody know where I am.

The world spun around me, and finally, my feet hit the solid stone floor. I looked around, glad that nothing seemed to have changed since the last time I'd been here.

The same slate-tiled floors and black stone walls devoid of windows. The same Greek Fire torches and heavy stone furniture, the single bed recently replaced by a bunk after Hazel's arrival in case she ever wanted to visit Camp Half Blood.

The place had never felt like home even though I'd designed it myself. Nowhere did, now that I'm being honest.

I went to take a few steps forward, but my knees buckled under me and I almost fell, only keeping myself upright by grabbing the edge my dresser.

Gods, I was more tired than I thought. Frequent shadow-travel wasn't helping my recovery from the two trips "down there" and neither was the strict environment of Camp Jupiter. I was being pushed further and further, but I just had to deal with it.

Maybe I'd even be able to get some nightmare-free sleep tonight.

I had to take several deep breaths before pushing myself up again on unstable knees and crossing the room to my bed, collapsing on the bottom bunk fully clothed. Packing could come later.

I felt my eyes flutter shut as I hit the plush mattress (much nicer than the one's at Camp Jupiter) and fell asleep quickly, but only because of how utterly exhausted I was.

* * *

Raw screaming woke me up that night, and it definitely wasn't mine.

I shot up, almost banging my head on the top bunk. My eyes scanned the room, which was bathed in eerie green light, and my ears strained to listen for more over the din of the crickets and cicadas.

A few moments later, another earth-shattering scream split the peaceful air of the camp.

Oh gods, it was Percy. It had to be, I knew that scream. I'd heard it enough in Tartarus.

I practically jumped out of bed, grabbing my Stygian sword just in case and fumbling with tired fingers to attach it to my belt, already dashing out the room.

I jogged down the dirt paths towards Percy's cabin, ignoring the campers sticking their heads out, trying to figure out where the screams were coming from.

Every so often another scream would pierce the silence, and I could feel myself panicking more and more as I got closer. It occurred to me that he _probably _wasn't being attacked, but he was having a nightmare at the least.

I neared the end of the U-shape, and realized there were people gathered around the low-built Poseidon cabin, illuminated by the crackling hearth in the middle of the u.

Jason was there already, probably having heard the screams first, quickly and quietly addressing the growing crowd of head consolers that had gathered, obviously worried and more than a bit scared. Even Clarisse was there, and she looked just as freaked out as the rest.

I pushed through the crowd quickly, muttering under my breath. The other camper's moved out of my way, surprised by my sudden appearance. Jason's eyes widened when he saw me.

I gave him a knowing look, and he fixed one back on me, reluctantly letting me pass through the door. Screams and moans echoed through the camp when the door opened again.

What I saw in front of me was horrible, something I wished I would never have to see again.

Percy was sprawled on his bed, chest heaving and body jerking wildly, twisted hopelessly in the white sheets. His usually handsome face contorted in a mask of pain and drenched in sweat. Every so often, his mouth would open in a raw-throated scream or moan or sob.

Annabeth was kneeling at his bedside, her hair a rat's nest, holding his wrists down tightly. She was whispering softly to him in a trembling but urgent voice, stormy-eyes already swimming with tears. It didn't look like she was helping at all. For once in her life, she had no idea what to do.

I stalked across the room quietly, and Annabeth jumped as I settled down next to her.

"N-Nico, I don't know...I don't know what to do! He won't stop, I-I can't get it to stop," she moaned, letting the tears flow down her cheeks. But Annabeth never cried, especially not in front of anyone. She was usually so strong, but now...she was broken.

I simply nodded, unsure of what to say to comfort her, nudging her hand out of the way to grab Percy's exposed wrist. She scooted over, placing her hands in her lap and watching helplessly from the sidelines.

I took a deep breath, and leaned in, shaking Percy's shoulder softly.

"C'mon Perce. It's only a dream. You're fine, I'm fine, everyone is fine. The war's over and you're back at camp and there's nothing to worry about. It's only a dream...it's only a dream," I murmured softly in his ear, brushing sweat-soaked raven hair out of the way.

I kept at that for several minutes, trying to get some reaction, any reaction. Nothing. Percy kept thrashing in bed and screaming and sobbing and moaning and I couldn't do anything about it.

I leaned back from him, dropping my hands to my side and was about to give up when I hazily remembered something, something I'd learned in the pit with him.

Cautiously, and aware of Annabeth's piercing eyes on me, I leaned in once more and started speaking softly in Italian this time.

I said the same things, and he had no idea what the words meant. It shouldn't have worked, but for some reason, it did. It'd always calmed him down without fail down there, whenever he was panicking or in pain, I would just speak Italian for him and it would calm him down. I couldn't tell you why.

The change was immediate. The son of Poseidon's face softened, returning back to almost normal. His movements got weaker and the thrashing stopped. His breathing returned to normal, no longer heaving sobs deep in his chest. He wasn't in pain anymore.

And slowly, his eyes cracked open, still shining wetly.

"N-Nico?" he croaked, face already starting to crumple.

"Shhh, it's okay Perce. It's okay," I whispered, moving over to let Annabeth through.

"Oh, Seaweed Brain," she sobbed, surging forward a wrapping him in a tight hug, burying her face in his soiled shoulder.

"M'sorry," he mumbled shakily, "M'sorry if I scared you Annie. I'm okay...I-I'm fine."

She nodded, pulling away and giving him a kiss on the cheek, "You need some rest. Go back to sleep and I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

Percy nodded slowly, trying to keep his emotions under control by burying his face in the pillow.

Annabeth got up, wiping her tears away and glaring in Nico's direction before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

It was significantly more awkward after Annabeth left. Percy was lying in bed, trying to control himself and I was still kneeling there, hand rested on Percy's side as I tried to forget what had just happened.

Eventually, I tried to get up, but was surprised when I felt his calloused hand shoot out and grab my thin wrist.

"N-no. P-Please, Nico...just, just s-stay a lit-little longer. Just...just in case I-I start..."

"Of course Perce. I'll stay as long as you need me," I assured him, gripping his hand tighter in mine and settling down again.

A tiny hint of a smile played across my lips despite everything that'd happened.

Maybe Percy did need me after all.

* * *

**I would like to thank the Percy Jackson wiki page because it basically saved the life of this fic :) easy to access knowledge on all the stuff I don't yet understand and it's totally perfect!**

**Well, I hope you all enjoyed the new installment. **

**And I promise, it won't be this depressing forever :) It'll have a happy ending!**

**If you enjoyed, or if you have anything comments or criticisms, drop a review or a PM!**


	3. Chapter 3

**So I'm super sorry this is coming to you guys so late, I've just got a lot on my plate between school and all my other writing. **

**Hope you enjoy, and PLEASE give me some feedback. I'm not really all that sure what people think of this yet :(**

* * *

I woke up the next morning to the sound of trickling water and sunlight warming the side of my face, immediately confused as to where I was. My cabin certainly didn't have sunlight (no windows, just the creepy Greek Fire torches), nor did it have peacefully trickling fountains.

I cracked my eyes open, squinting in the bright white light as faintly glowing walls and rows of bunks with flowing white sheets came into view. The Poseidon cabin? What was I doing here?

Oh, right, I thought to myself, everything from the previous night flooding back through my still sleep-foggy brain.

I shifted my head slightly on the squishy mattress, realizing just how close I was to the older teen. He really did look adorable when he was sleeping, his dark hair all rumpled and his face placid and calm. I just wanted to stay here for a few more minutes, watching him, but I sorta realized that was weird. Too Twilight-y for my taste.

Straightening myself out slowly and hissing at the pain in my stiffened neck, I vaguely realized my own hand was still loosely wrapped around Percy's, and I jerked my hand back suddenly, eyes widening at the prolonged contact. Definitely not something I was used to. Watching him sleep, being close to him? Fine. But touching...not really fine.

The son of Poseidon stirred from the sudden movement though, twisting under the already disheveled white sheets.

"Nico? Is that you?" he mumbled sleepily, stretching and burying his face in his pillow without opening his eyes.

"Uh, yeah. Must've, um, fallen asleep here last night. Sorry...I'll just be going now," I managed to stutter out, raking my hands through my hair like I always did when I was nervous.

"S'okay," Percy replied, voice muffled, "I'll see you later?"

"S-sure," I mumbled quietly, already making my way to the door. I didn't really have the heart to tell him that I was leaving. Yes, I was still leaving, I had to...

I slipped out of Cabin 3 quickly and quietly, thankful that we'd both woken up late and that most people were already at the dining pavilion. The less people to see me, the better. I was leaving, whatever happened last night didn't matter. I still had to leave, there was no getting around the fact that Percy was never going to care the way I cared about him.

When I got back to my cabin (lucky #13), I immediately collapsed on my bed, not even because I was tired. Last night had probably been the best night's sleep I'd gotten in months, and I'm sure Percy would agree too. Perhaps it was something about being close to him...but no. I can't let last night change my mind. I had to move on, my stupid little crush on a guy that was never going to love me back would never get me anywhere in life. He was Percy Jackson, straight as a pole with a gorgeous, loving, absolutely perfect girlfriend.

She was everything to him, she'd _always _been everything to him, even from the day we first met. I could still remember that bitterly cold night outside Westover Hall. I could still remember the look of distress on Percy's face after Annabeth fell, how he shouted at a goddess (even if he wasn't really aware of her status), but still, the thought counted. He'd left camp without permission, risked everything he had just to save her. He'd held up the sky for her. They'd shared their uber-romantic first kiss under Mt. St. Helens. They were meant for each other, not even the gods could keep them apart.

And even now, while he was broken beyond belief, she stayed. She still loved him, even if he was different, and he obviously still loved her back. He didn't need me and he could never love me anyway, not in any capacity. I'd damaged things too much, blaming him for what happened to Bianca even if it wasn't his fault. I'd carried so much hate around with me, and even after things were "okay" between us, I went and betrayed him time and time again, I couldn't ignore that fact any longer even as I tried to forget those weak moments. It didn't matter how I felt about him now. Even if, by some miracle, he was gay or at least bi, he would never love _me. _It's a wonder he didn't seem to hate me as much as I'd hated him in the past.

It didn't matter if this one time I'd been able to help him through a nightmare. He would get better with time and with Annabeth. Nightmares were an already common occurrence after all, and it might not have even been about Tartarus in the first place. The dream could have been about anything, demigods go through enough as it is without taking on the pit. They'd fade in intensity sooner or later. He'd be fine.

Regardless of last night, I didn't matter to him. I never could.

Better to force myself to realize that now rather than allow myself to suffer anymore heartache.

I pushed myself out of bed, groaning involuntarily as my stiff muscles, gained through a night of awkward sleeping positions, protested. I fumbled in my bedside drawer for the ambrosia I kept there, downing a square and immediately feeling a rush of relief. I let myself rest for another second before getting up. Time to start packing, I thought to myself somberly, pushing everything related to that damned son of Poseidon out of my mind.

I wasn't really sure what time it was when I heard the knock on my cabin door, probably some time after breakfast. The lack of windows always made time hard to judge, only compounded by my screwed up inner clock and constant jet lag (from my travels to the Underworld and California).

I crossed the room and opened the door, only to find a much taller Percy staring down at me.

"I missed you at breakfast! Where we're you?" he exclaimed in an unusually hoarse voice, and oh my gods I needed him out. I couldn't deal with him anymore, I just wanted to go.

I closed the door in his face, as I'd done so many times before, and sank down to the stone floor in front of the door. I couldn't do this anymore, I couldn't take having him around. He would give me those adorable baby seal eyes and I knew that I would just end up letting him in and I'd miraculously find some reason to stay here.

I expected him to just turn around and accept the hint that maybe I wasn't really in the mood to talk. But, oblivious as he always is, he insisted on banging on the door instead. I felt each vibration.

"Just go away," I moaned loud enough for him to hear. I really couldn't take this anymore.

"Nico! C'mon, please just open up!"

"I said go away," I shouted loader this time.

"Is...is this about what I said a few weeks ago? B-because I didn't mean it, I don't even know why I said that. Seriously, just let me in, I really want to talk to you," he asked. Gods, I could almost see the look on his face.

No, I couldn't let him in.

But...he sounded so sad. Maybe...maybe he was sorry about what he'd said, maybe he wanted to patch things over. Maybe, maybe, maybe. He would probably just kick the door down if I didn't let him in...so what was the point of trying to keep him out.

I got up and turned to the door, placing a shaking hand on the knob. I was going to regret this, right?

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**Hope you enjoyed and I certainly hope I'll be back around sooner. **

**FEEDBACK IS A WONDERFUL THING, PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello dears (no clue where that came from...)**

**I'm much happier with this chapter, as it's plenty longer than the past few**

**Also, I've founded this WAY easier to write after reading The Lost Hero and The Son of Neptune over the past two days. I'm about halfway through The Mark of Athena right now...and I STILL don't like Jason! Can anyone out there convince me why he's a good character? Any Jason fangirls/fanboys out there that can explain the whole thing to me? I don't get it...**

**But I have plenty of feelings for the books...um, I like Reyna, Leo, Hazel, and Frank. Piper's okay, but I just don't like Jason at all really. So yeah, enjoying them immensely and breezing through them in a day each!**

**Rambling aside, hope you all enjoy the new chapter :)**

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Percy looked down at me dumbfounded, raised fist still positioned as if to bang on my charred wood door.

"Oh. I, uh, didn't think you'd open the door," he stammered.

I rolled my eyes and shrugged, walking over across the room to block the view of my open suitcase while leaving the door open as if inviting him in.

After he entered, Percy didn't say another word, just stood in the center of the room, looking around. It occurred to me that he'd never even been in here, only seen the outside. Well, it isn't anyone ever really _wanted _to be around the cabin, it radiated this aura of bad luck and death. Hazel was the only one brave enough to stay the night, and she'd only done it twice.

But standing right in front of me, bathed in an eerie green light, I couldn't help but stare at Percy and what he'd become.

Part of me had wanted to believe that Percy would be alright if I left, it's not like I mattered anyway. I'd thought that Annabeth would be able to hold him together, that over the weeks he'd get better with sleeping and eating and functioning like a semi-normal human being. I thought that maybe he'd be getting better by now.

I was wrong.

It was obvious that he still wasn't eating right, probably from loss of appetite (a worrying sign of depression). His orange Camp Halfblood t-shirt, which he'd once filled out so effortlessly with his lean muscles and broad shoulders, drooped on his now scarecrow-thin frame, and the green light cast off from the Greek fire torches only served to deepen shadows on his face, elongating it and highlighting the newly sharpened features. He reminded me of Octavian in a way, only his eyes (only slightly less manic than that damned teddy bear murderer) and hair (still the same deep black, but now straw-like without that windblown quality) ruined the image.

And oh Gods, his eyes were still the same. Still blank and tired, rimmed in black circles. Still swirling with pain, blanketing the underlying fierceness which had become a permanent fixture after his time spent with Lupa and completely blacking out the beautiful sparks.

Nothing changed.

It still hurt seeing him like this. Pale. Thin. Haunted and shadowed and broken.

He looked like a corpse, like the haggard ghosts that roamed the Underworld. It worried me a lot, actually, he was almost as thin as me, but his height made him look worse. Gods, we could even pass as brothers right now. Same skin, same build, same shadowed, painful eyes.

I was _supposed_ to be like this though. I'd always been scrawny and short, even when I was young. And my skin, even if it'd once been olive, had faded to this pale white so many years ago that it was normal now. My blackened eyes had held pain for a long time too. Most people could scarcely remember me when I was a little kid, all bright brown eyes and hyperactivity. Percy and Annabeth were probably the only ones. That innocent little kid was in the past though, he'd been gone a long, long time. I was used to being this way, feeling this way.

But Percy wasn't.

Percy was supposed to be the golden boy of the camp, the guy all the Aphrodite girls giggled about in secret. His muscles were supposed to flex and flow elegantly as his lithe frame pulled off complicated swordplay maneuvers like he'd been born with Riptide superglued to his hand. His skin was supposed to glow like a god's, his already enviable complexion tanned evenly from time spent outside. His eyes were supposed to shine like the sea, like perfect little turquoise gemstones sparkling with mischief and a confident defiance. His brilliant white teeth were supposed to flash in the sun with each laugh and goofy, lopsided grin.

Percy wasn't supposed to look like a son of Hades, but he was definitely not supposed to feel like one. He wasn't supposed to feel like me.

He'd always been so happy. The optimist. Always joking, always smiling...Tartarus had changed that though, war had changed that. Shattered him like glass and stolen the warm smile I'd always loved.

He still wasn't supposed to be hopeless, lost and drifting unanchored like myself. He wasn't supposed to be depressed. He was supposed to be okay.

He'd been through hell, sure, both physically and mentally. And literally, come to think of it. But this still wasn't his element. He'd always managed to stay bright in the past, despite all the pain.

I tried to understand what was different this time around. I tried to figure out what'd changed.

I understood the physical side clear as day. I knew all about the monsters he'd fought and the battles he'd won, having witnessed many myself and at the very least listened to the stories the others told. I'd seen first hand his warrior side, the wolfish glint in his eyes as he knocked back foe after foe like the night of his first war games at Camp Jupiter. I'd heard the shouts of unsettling laughter that escaped past parted lips in the midst of battles in Manhattan. I'd seen him in his glinting bronze battle armor, tall, imposing, and undeniably terrifying. I'd even seen the jagged scars that spanned his body, crisscrossing his tan skin in both faded white and bright pink.

But physically, I felt like Tartarus was no different than the other hordes he'd faced. He'd crossed the country time and time again, facing monsters and gods. He'd spent months homeless, traveling aimlessly with only Lupa and her wolf pack by his side. He'd been hurt before, he'd been starved and exhausted and scared. Tartarus was worse, of course. There was the added poison air and fiery rivers and glass shores and increased gravity. The physical pain had worn him down, but not bad enough to cause this.

He was a warrior after all, you could see it on his skin and in his eyes. I'd seen his pain on the outside more time than I could count, been witness to countless cuts and bruises before he bore the Curse of Achilles and after he lost it. The physical couldn't possibly bother him anymore, not like this.

Emotional then.

I didn't understand the emotional though.

Well, I did, kind of. I understood what it was like to lose people, and I understood what it was like to be afraid. They were normal demigod problems though, he had more specific things to worry about. But I even understood, to an extent, what it was like to be a prophecy child. I understood what it was like to be despised by the gods just because I exist.

He put up a good front for most people, hiding his mental pain to an extent. To them, he was the ever-loyal goofball that played down his own intelligence and cracked jokes, who just so happened to be the camp's fiercest warrior. People envied him, thought he was perfect. But he was just as cracked up as me, especially after going through Hell. Most people had just never seen the pain in his eyes until recently, until Tartarus.

I'd seen the pain though, it was hard not to. Misery was kind of my domain after all.

But there was a lot that I didn't, and probably never would, understand about Percy.

He wasn't really one for sharing much about himself. His emotions, his troubles, his life before coming to camp. Not many people knew the real Percy, the battered mind locked inside the equally battered warrior's body.

He carried guilt, that much I could tell. More than the average halfblood. It weighed him down sometimes, like the world was perched on his shoulder. You couldn't see it all the time, but I knew it was there, even if I didn't really understand it.

I'd tried to understand though, many times. I tried to piece it together, but a lot of it alluded me.

I could tell he felt guilty about something in his past, probably something to do with his mom, which I honestly didn't know much about. Nobody knew much about his time before coming to camp, for that matter. He kept a lot of it secret, only vague mentions of some guy named Gabe (who apparently was a real asshole) slipping out every once and a while. Only Annabeth and Grover seemed to know what was going on, but I suppose it was Percy's right to keep secrets.

And I couldn't help but feel guilty. I'd blamed him for Bianca's death (which I still hated thinking about) for so long, I can't imagine what it was like to be held responsible for something like that. I'd seriously hated him, and he hadn't deserved it at all. He must've felt guilty though, only _he _would. Any normal person would ignore the way I felt, but of course Percy would never be able to do that. I knew he felt bad for screwing up and letting Bianca die (even though it was in now possible way his fault). But things were different now...I had complete and total closure. No bringing her back, no seeing her again. Not ever. I guess it was a good thing, it was all finally in the past, the string was finally cut. I could move on.

But Percy...he didn't feel guilty about _just _Bianca. There was Beckendorf and Silena and so many others that he'd lost along the way because he wasn't smart enough, fast enough, strong enough, good enough. He carried all that unnecessary guilt. Nobody blamed him for the deaths, but he blamed himself.

I guess that was part of the problem. But it still didn't make sense.

They hadn't lost that many people in the war with Gaea (causalities were unavoidable, but they hadn't been devastating to either side), and none of them had been overly close friends. The seven had made it through without too much damage, both camps survived and flourished with newfound friendship.

It...it was like all the strings inside him had broken. Like getting thrown into Tartarus and pulled back to war had been the scissors to cut the bands already frayed by war and guilt and pain. He'd held on by the tiniest of threads until the war was over, then he'd just...unraveled.

Tartarus was just one hell too many, just providing new fuel for his nightmares.

The soldiers lost just more in the endless line of ghosts that danced at the back of Percy's mind.

I couldn't think of a way to fix the strings though. Was there even a way to repair someone so broken?

Maybe...maybe I'd made the wrong decision in leaving. Maybe I should stay now. I might have been able to help him get better before, kept the strings together and woven the almost broken strands back together. I mean, I did understand him. Could I still make it work? Could I fix this?

There was a glimmer of hope there, in his eyes. It was tiny, but still there. A glint in his eyes, a tether to the old Percy hidden in his eyes by pain and ferocity. Maybe the strings weren't broken...maybe I was back in time. Maybe I could fix it.

"Uh...Nico, you okay?" his voice broke the tense silence, and my eyes widened as I bit my lip and looked away. I'd been staring at him way too long to be normal.

"Fine," I replied shortly, turning my back to him and shutting the old black suitcase with a sharp click. Maybe I could stay...maybe.

"It's just that you were staring at me and you didn't show up to breakfast..."

"I said I'm fine!" I practically shouted, stopping him mid sentence.

"Jeez, sorry I asked," he replied, shifting uneasily. "I was worried about you, that's all."

"No, I-I'm sorry. Not your fault, I just wasn't hungry," I mumbled, still not up to facing him.

Silence followed, the room only filled with the sounds of our shallow breathing. Not good. I sighed and turned around, eyes flitting up.

His face was an even paler white, and he seemed more solemn than before.

I followed his pained eyes with my own. Oh, great. He'd seen the suitcase I'd been trying to hide in the shadows. I looked at him, stared at him for a second longer. I wished I hadn't, in those fleeting seconds it was like that tiny spark in his eyes was gone. Gods, I'd screwed up badly. I opened my mouth, as if to explain myself.

"No...no, I get it. Don't even bother, I know I won't be able to stop you or anything. I'll just, um, leave you to your packing then," he stammered, already backing out the door.

"Percy, look," I started, already moving to grab his shoulder and pull him back into the cabin.

He shrugged me off though, "No, just...just go if that's what you want. I'm fine," he replied bitterly, but catching my look, added, "I-I'll be fine. No need to worry about me."

The pale, tremor-wracked seventeen year old walked off without another word, leaving me in the doorframe.

I'd screwed up big time.

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**Let me know what you think please! (And maybe help me understand why y'all love Jason so much...he just seems like a less interesting Percy, in my opinion)**

**Until next time my friends! And thanks a million for all the follows and favorites, I think I'm up to forty-something already :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello once more my friends :)**

**Hope you enjoy!**

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Why did I always screw everything up?

Seriously, why?

I knew I'd done bad things in the past, but this just seemed like cruel and unusual punishment. I'd betrayed Percy and hurt him, but I though we'd worked past it. I thought I'd made up for everything by fighting in another goddamn war, that's earned me no respect. Its bad enough that most people still don't trust me, still treat me with disgust and find reasons to walk away. I was still a freak no matter how hard I tried, but I thought Percy had finally forgiven me. He didn't treat me like a freak, and I'm the one who'd been creating the distance. He'd always been good to me. So why did he have to hate me just like everyone else, especially when I'd thought things were alright?

I mean, when he'd started dating Annabeth, I'd tried to convince myself that this whole things had always just been a little crush. I'd thought I could just turn off my feelings. Enough distance between us would crush the little bit of hope I'd saved even after realizing his undeniable heterosexuality.

I couldn't stay away for long though. Hera just had to stick her nose in other people's business, so much so it seemed like it was her job. I'd been expected to go out searching for Percy because of how quickly I could travel (though people didn't seem to grasp how utterly exhausting shadow travel was) and I'd agreed because I still cared. The thought of losing him made me feel like panicking, but nobody seemed to notice. They were all so preoccupied with Annabeth and how _she _was taking it.

Trying to forget about Percy was impossible. I still loved him, he still mattered the most to me, but it's not like I was accepting it at the time. So I'd searched along with everyone else.

But _I _hadfound him first. Not Annabeth.

I'd been the one forced to stand there, staring into his eyes and pretending I'd never met him. I'd had to stand there, masking the relief in my eyes at finally finding him.

I'd even had to take the shit for not revealing the whole thing, because for some reason nobody seemed to understand that I hadn't been in any place to reveal Hera's plans. Gods, even Percy had been a bit pissed off at me for not telling.

But things should be different now, right? I'd paid my dues, done what I had to do to stop this bloody war. I'd been a good person, no betrayals this time around. I'd kept my distance so I didn't freak anyone out too much, or piss them off (considering my rusty people skills, it was probably for the best). And things seemed to have been good for a bit. The Seven were able to deal with me when I made my appearances. Jason was nice enough. Hazel had gotten Frank to come around to me. Leo and Piper were considerate, even though I knew the both of them (and Frank, for that matter) were still freaked out by me. And Percy...he'd forgotten about all the crap so quickly, just like always. That is, until everything went to shit again...

Coming back here though, I realized that maybe I could do something about Percy. Maybe I could help him in a way that the others couldn't. I could be there for him, be an understanding ear.

I'd finally begun to think that maybe he cared about me, that maybe for once someone needed me for once in my miserable existence.

And the very second, the very literal second, I decided to be selfless and stick around for his sake, he gets pissed off and runs away.

Just like me.

I knew it was a bit hypocritical, me being pissed off at him. I'd done the same thing time and time again. But it still hurt. Was this how Percy had felt each time I'd left?

I just wanted things to be normal between us. I wanted us to be friends. I wanted to be able to stand in the same room as him without simultaneously hating and loving him. Was that really too much to ask?

I blame Aphrodite. The goddess of love could never make things simple for me.

At least I wasn't in denial anymore. The experience with Cupid and Tartarus had been enough to reaffirm my feelings for Percy. I still loved him. But I also knew I was never going to get him. I knew he would never care about me the way I cared for him. He had Annabeth for that. But I couldn't ignore the fact that I might be able to help him.

I could leave again when he was better, when he went home and wasn't staying at camp anymore.

* * *

Jason came knocking on my door next, probably around noon-ish. I really needed to get a watch...

But regardless, a massive wall of muscle at any time of day wasn't really the best thing for a foul mood, especially since this particular wall of muscle had a scary scowl on his face.

"What did you do now di Angelo?" he practically growled, catching me by surprise. Jason was pissed off too.

I fought the urge to slam the door in yet another person's face before realizing that he'd conveniently placed his foot in the door, preventing just that.

"What d'you mean?" I asked, trying to sound innocent. I knew what I'd done though.

"What do I mean? Seriously? I've spent the past few weeks cleaning up the mess you made, and that's all I get," he whispered urgently, looking over his shoulder and sidling his way into my cabin.

"Still not following Grace," I murmured under my breath.

"He got worse after you after you left, a lot worse," Jason began, arms crossed in front of his bulky chest and eyes sparking with static. "He just shut down completely, he never does anything. The nightmares have gotten worse too, and he's hardly eating. Gods Nico, we've been trying to help him but there's only so much we can do! I never even thought it would get this bad! Why would you just leave him like that?"

"I-I'm not..."

"No! Answer me, why would you leave him? You're the only person in the entire world that could possibly understand what he's going through right now, and you just left without a word to the rest of us. I thought you cared about him, but you're just a selfish little-"

"Shut up!" I shouted angrily, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Just stop! I know that I shouldn't have left in the first place, but I'm not leaving again, I swear."

Jason's brow furrowed, "Well, Percy seems to think otherwise. Care to explain?"

"He saw my suitcase. I-I was planning on leaving when I got here last night...but I feel asleep then woke up to his screaming. And-and I then I woke up this morning in his cabin and he came to see me after breakfast, and now I think he's mad at me or something. I want to make things right again, just...just tell me what's going on with him, please?"

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**Much to talk about, but first off, tell me what you think! I'd love feedback!**

**Second order of business, I've come around a bit to Jason recently, after getting through most of House of Hades. My feelings for him though, remain concurrent with the feelings I hold for the ACTUAL Superman. I think they're both boring as hell...**

**Thirdly, should any of you be looking for something good to read, go check out StrydeVex's stuff on this humble website. He's a pretty awesome writer and has a lot of good stories going for him, a mix of really sweet ones and really sad ones :)**

**Um, fourth...I'm almost done House of Hades...and I'm getting to the point where I'm panicking over Blood of Olympus and impending character death...**

**Well, that's all for now! Hope to be back around with a new (and better, more dramatic) chapter soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'd like to apologize for being so late :(**

**I really didn't mean to make you wait this long...and I'm also sorry that this chapter is so regrettably short. **

**Well, anyway, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: I am NOT secretly Rick Riordan...I don't own PJO, I just do this for fun.**

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"_I want to make things right again, just...just tell me what's going on with him, please?"_

Jason stared at me for a moment before the scowl slipped from his face and his eyes softened, "Look, sorry I freaked out a bit there...it's just frustrating. Ever since you left, he's just been getting worse and worse and none of us can seem help him."

"What d'you mean? What's worse?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady and failing.

"Just...everything," Jason replies, shaking his head, "Like, he almost never leaves his cabin anymore. He never spars or goes to his activities, and everyone's gotten tried of trying to force him, even Chiron and Annabeth. It's gotten so bad lately that I've had to break down his door and drag him out just to get him to the dining pavilion for some food. He doesn't eat anymore unless we force him, and he barely sleeps. The nightmares weren't so bad at first. I'd hear him scream once or twice since I'm closet to his cabin, and then it would quiet down again. But lately...they've all been like what you saw last night and it's like there's nothing anyone can do to stop them, not even Annabeth. We...we're all just so worried about about him"

"But he said he was at breakfast today, that he missed me being there..." I stammered, completely confused.

"He was, and I nearly fell off the bench. I don't even remember the last time he left his cabin willingly. He...he just walked in and started eating breakfast like nothing was wrong, it was like before...you know...Tartarus," he remarked, running his fingers through his hair nervously.

It was strange, seeing Jason so nervous and distressed. He was always so calm and collected, to the point where he reminded me more of a son of Athena than a son of Jupiter. He had that stoic, militarist mind that I'd found a lot of Romans had, but it was probably just from spending his whole life at Camp Jupiter. He was nothing like Thalia, not so hot-headed or emotional. But now, it was like he _actually _cared about someone I never thought he really cared about.

And here I was, thinking they'd never really been friends in the first place. I mean, they'd always had this competitive thing going on, ever since they first met. Hell, even before that. For the few months that he'd been at Camp Half Blood, he must've been showered with stories of the mighty Percy Jackson, defeater of Kronos and Hero of Olympus. It would've been enough to rattle anyone, make them curious about the person supposedly better than them.

But in the end I never thought they'd really connected. Like, he'd gone on a crazy quest with Leo and Piper, more than enough to solidify their friendship outside Hera's implanted memories. And being Roman, he already has a sort of unspoken bond with Hazel and Frank even though they had never met before the adventure on the Argo II. Even I'd shared something with him, even though it was involuntary. He was the only person how knew my secret, who I really was and how I felt about Percy in particular. But Percy...they'd never had something bringing them together past the normal demigod stuff that we could all bond over.

It was weird seeing Jason so worried. It was also disheartening.

It proved that I wasn't crazy, that Percy really was in trouble. I wasn't just overly worried about someone I loved. If Jason was worried, things were serious. Gods, it was so serious that they were breaking down his door just to get him to eat enough to stay alive.

And what if he didn't want to be alive? What if...what if all this was just him running away like an animal? Isn't that what animals did when it was there time? They stop eating and leave if they can. What if he just wanted to die alone? What if he just wanted the peace he'd never really had? I know I'd thought about in the past, how dying would have to be better than the way I was living. And I know he'd thought about it too, he'd shared those thoughts with me while we were down there. He'd revealed this secret dark side that he'd always hidden behind the smile.

It occurred to me, now, that maybe he'd felt this way before. Surely he'd felt this hopeless, this lost and alone before. Maybe this whole thing was a long time coming.

I should have seen this coming. Gods, I should have seen it coming and done something to stop it before it got out of hand. I shouldn't have been so selfish. I should've thought about him, I should've helped him.

Well, perhaps it wasn't too late.

"And...and you really think it's me? You think he's been getting so much worse because I left?" I questioned nervously, not meeting Jason's eyes.

Jason let out a deep breath, "I'm sure of it. Before you left, things were bad...but not this bad. You were the only thing keeping him at least a bit sane."

"But what about Annabeth? Hasn't she been, you know, there for him?" I began, trailing off at the end. No matter what she did, I couldn't help but hate her a bit. I know it was stupid and childish of me, but I couldn't help it.

"She doesn't understand what he's going though. She wasn't in Tartarus like you two, she doesn't know how to help him. He's been pulling away from her too, just as much as the rest of us. I mean, you saw what happened last night. She was useless in stopping his nightmare...I dunno. At this rate, I don't know how much longer they'll last," Jason added.

I forced myself not to smile at that last bit. Even if he broke up with Annabeth, he could never care about me as anything more than a kid brother. It's not like he was trying to get my hopes up or anything.

I sighed and finally glanced up at Jason, "Alright, I'll go talk to him right now."

Jason simply nodded and left without another word, seemingly content with my decision to stay and talk with him.

* * *

The walk to the Poseidon cabin was a short one. I stuck to the shadows mostly, trying to avoid the sight of the other demigods. Most of them had found it in their ever so compassionate hearts to tolerate me, seeing as I'd helped unite the Greeks and Romans, but that didn't mean I wanted to stop and chat. No need to start weird rumors either, especially since _someone _must've seen me leave Percy's cabin this morning.

I walked up to the low, stone building and knocked once. Twice. Three times. All to no avail.

"Um, Percy?" I called out, "It's me...um, Nico. Can you let me in? I just want to talk."

I tried the doorknob. Locked.

I kept pounding on the door, hoping it wouldn't alert any other campers to my presence. I didn't need them around for this...it would be painful enough.

In fact, I was pounding the door so hard that I barely registered the hoarse voice on the other side before the door was cracked open and I stopped knocking suddenly. I could already hear footsteps retreating to the other side of the darkened room with blinds and curtains both drawn.

I gulped nervously, and stepped into the darkness.

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**Tell me what you think! Criticism welcome, as always.**

**And I hope to back around sooner than before, since I've kind of gotten back into this story and figured out what I'm doing. **


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